


The Well-Coiffed Warden

by owlmoose



Series: Pieces of Thedas [50]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fill-in Scene, Flash Fic, Headcanon, Tumblr Prompt, quiet moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4779896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sereda, Alistair, and a quiet moment in Redcliffe Castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Well-Coiffed Warden

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the intimacy meme on Tumblr, for the prompt "one character playing with another's hair." I also took the opportunity to play with some headcanons regarding personal grooming, Alistair, and his styling choices. Set in the Fidelity continuity.

Rain pattered against the windows, and the panes shook with each gust of wind; the evening had blown in stormy, so Sereda was content to be holed up in Redcliffe Castle rather than shivering in a tent outside, piled up on a bearskin rug with Alistair and Dog in front of a fireplace. Arl Eamon had cast them a sideways glance when she and Alistair had taken the same room, but he had not commented, and neither had she. With luck, it would stay that way.

Sereda leaned back and wiggled her bare toes, luxuriating in the warmth of the fire. Alistair’s head rested in her lap, and absently she began to pet him, stroking his head from crown to nape, tracing the whorl of hair with her fingers. He let out a little sigh of contentment, and she lightly patted the bits that stuck out from his forehead.

“Hey.” He opened his eyes, a small smile on his face. “Don’t mess it up, now. Dinner is only an hour off, and you know I’m particular about my hair.”

She grinned back, still bouncing her palm off the soft tips. “It was only one of the first things you told me about yourself. Right after that whole royal bastard thing.” He chuckled. “I’ve noticed most other men in Ferelden don’t bother quite as much about it. Certainly you go to a lot of trouble to keep it this short.” Many mornings on the road she had seen him trim it with his razor, even before he shaved his face. “I mean, it suits you, but…”

His expression turned serious. “Long habit born of necessity. Maric wore his hair long; so did Cailan. Keeping mine short resulted in fewer questions and strange looks.” He shrugged. “But also, I just don’t think I would look like me if I grew it out. You know?”

“I know.” Sereda kissed her hand and pressed her fingers against his temple. Of course Alistair wouldn’t want to look in the mirror and see the king looking back at him. Although that might not be an image he could push away for long. Tomorrow they would leave for Denerim, with many more changes on the table besides Alistair’s hairstyle. He closed his eyes again, and she returned to gently stroking his head, smoothing and soothing all their cares away.


End file.
